Great Big World
by MarianaReads
Summary: Six years after the War and no one knows what to do with themselves when relationships begin to fall apart. Harry/Luna, Ginny/Dean, Ron/Hermione [M for - sex/infidelity/language]
1. Chapter 1

Harry twisted his wedding band around his finger and watched his wife from across the room, shamelessly flirting with Dean Thomas as though she wasn't married and her husband wasn't sitting a mere thirty feet from her. Try as he may, Harry could not find it within himself to feel anything about the situation other than a detached interest and another surge of thankfulness that the two had not been able to get pregnant, much to Molly's dismay. And no - there it was - he was _annoyed_ that the two were being so obvious in such a public place, surrounded by their family and closest friends and colleagues. Ginny should have had the decency to carry out her affair in private, like any decent human being would.

"Do you want me to go over there and try to put a stopper to it?" Hermione's voice sounded from Harry's left and he glanced towards his friend, smiling at her but shook his head. Hermione sank on to the bar stool next to Harry and frowned, studying his face, attempting to gauge where he was at with everything.

"Thanks but what's the point?" Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Harry shook his head dismissively. "Hopefully people are taking notice… that way when the divorce comes through, no one will be surprised."

"So, that's it then?" Hermione said and brought her wine glass to her lips, taking a small sip of some bubbly rose colored liquid. Harry stared longingly at the drink before tearing his gaze away, considering Hermione's question. Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Are you surprised?"

"I would've thought that you two would have tried to work things out."

"We did. It didn't work," Harry responded dryly, glancing towards Ginny again. Dean had his hand at her waist now. "I think that he makes her happy. Like, really and truly happy."

" _You_ should be the one who is making her happy. You're her husband," Hermione said adamantly.

"Yeah, well, turns out that we weren't exactly right for each other," Harry mumbled and he looked back towards Hermione as she sighed. "What? Hermione, Christ. We were eighteen when we got married. We were too young and too high off of the War. I'm honestly surprised that we lasted this long-"

"Bill and Fleur got married during the War and they're perfectly fine, in love-"

"They were older than us-"

"By _three_ years-"

"And had been dating for a year before they got married-"

"Ginny's been mad over you for ages-"

Harry ran his fingers over his eyes, from under his glasses. "Hermione. Please. Just stop… just stop talking. Shouldn't you be more concerned over the fact that I literally do not give a damn that some prick has his hands all over my wife in front of me? In fact, I'm hoping that she doesn't come home tonight because then I'm guaranteed some peace for once. Listen. Yeah, Ginny had a crush on me when she was ten. And yeah, we had feelings for each other at Hogwarts and throughout the War… but it just isn't working out, okay?" Harry pushed himself up from his bar stool and sucked a deep breath in through his nose before turning to his friend. "Listen - I love you, Hermione, and I love that you care. But just let this one go."


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny smiled coyly as she shut the door behind her and turned the lock. She hoped above all hope that her giddy excitement - like a little girl - was smothered deeply beneath a sexy dress and allure, and she turned the lock, savoring the sound of the mechanism as it clicked into place. Because that small lock guaranteed privacy, however brief, and at that very moment, she could hardly believe that she was _finally_ in the same room as him, after all these years.

Dean watched her guardedly and she moved across the room towards him, running her hands up his arms and she sucked in a breath as she took him in - God, he was beautiful. Ginny felt as though her heart would burst through her chest all the while fighting off the creeping dread that this was all a terribly seductive dream that would end the moment that Dean opened his mouth. And yet, she continued to smile at him and knew that she would never regret what came after this moment if it meant that she had him, even if for a brief moment.

"Gin," he breathed and Ginny closed her eyes, committing the sound of her name from his mouth to her deepest, most precious memories. "I've missed you. God, I've missed you so much." Dean whispered, and he brought his hand to her cheek, gently pushing a fallen strand of hair back from her face. Ginny lifted her hand to cover his and opened her eyes, suddenly startled to see all traces of _her_ Dean washed away and replaced with a cold, hard gaze at her hand. He let his hand drop and stepped out of her touch, but grabbed her hand - her left hand - and stared accusingly at the engagement and wedding rings that adorned her finger.

"Dean," she said and tried to pull her hand free but he held fast, tightly and Ginny winced as her fingers were pushed painfully together. "That isn't important-"

"Really?" He snarled and dropped her hand, stepping away and turning his back to her. "How can you say that? You're still wearing your ring. You told me you two were breaking up-"

"And we are," Ginny said, pleading. She reached out, running her hands down the length of Dean's arms and when he tensed, his entire body tightening at her touch, Ginny felt as though she could cry. "We are," she said softly. "But it's not like he's my boyfriend and I'm going to dump him… Divorce is more complicated.

"You shouldn't have married him to begin with."

"Do you think that I don't know that?" Ginny snapped and then she stopped, sucking in a breath and willing herself to calm down. She hadn't seen Dean in two years and she would be damned if she ruined it or let Dean get away again. "Dean. I'm working on it, I promise you that." She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him, resting her cheek against his back. After a moment, she felt his hands come up and encircle hers and she sighed a breath of relief. Dean pulled her hand up and pressed a soft kiss to her skin and she shivered.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry stood before the entrance of his favorite bar and he remembered that the last time he had been there was exactly one year, three months, two days, and - he thought - perhaps an hour ago. Ron had hauled him out of the bar piss-ass drunk and punched him right in the jaw after Harry had spewed some particularly nasty insults about Ginny. Harry rubbed his jaw, remembering, and considered whether his sobriety (1 year, 1 month, 5 days old) was worth exchanging for one night of oblivion.

As Harry stood, staring, he heard a familiar chuckle and turned, finding Luna Lovegood walking up the path to the bar, arm through the crook of a tall, spindly man who Harry vaguely recognized - Ralph, maybe. Luna saw him and her smile widened brilliantly, and she ran up to Harry, throwing her arms around him. He stumbled back, hands coming to her sides, attempting to steady the two of them.

"Harry!" She exclaimed and through her perfume - flowers and strawberries - Harry thought he smelled alcohol and then her companion laughed.

"Excuse her, please. Luna's had too good of a time tonight," he said and Luna pulled back only slightly from Harry, arms hooked around his neck, smile brilliant and Harry felt himself smiling too - suddenly.

"That's okay," Harry said, staring at Luna. Time had been very kind to her and he realized that she was beautiful - no, stunning. She was absolutely stunning and vibrant and Harry imagined that magic was dancing on the very surface of her skin, buzzing in frantic, excited energy like static electricity. His heart began to beat a bit faster.

"Oh, Harry," she said. "I'm _so_ glad to see you! It's been ages! And can you believe it? Guess what I just found out today…" she said, whispering and giddy and perhaps, Harry guessed, just a bit past tipsy.

"What's that, Luna?" He asked and lowered his hands, planting firmly at her hips. Luna leaned in closer to him, lips to his ear - he shivered.

"My first book is being published," she said softly, breath teasing Harry's hair and Harry closed his eyes but all of the sudden, she was gone… and he looked up. The man - Rolf! - was pulling Luna back from Harry as he sized Harry up, smile gone. For her part, Luna continued to smile and Harry held up his hands in innocence.

"Wow, that's fantastic!" He said, hoping that his enthusiasm would ward Rolf's protectiveness off. Who was this guy anyway? "How about I buy us a round." Luna clapped her hands together happily and Rolf frowned, reluctant.

"Yes! That would be amazing," she giggled and danced into the bar, Rolf only steps behind her. Harry drew in a deep breath and wondered at what the hell had just happened. Luna Lovegood had him feeling nervous and jittery? Harry shook his head and moved to follow the pair, pausing at the door to remove his wedding band and slipped it, deep into his pocket.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean opened the door to his apartment, suddenly nervous about his very humble living situation. He had only recently moved to the wizarding community that was hidden in London and the rent was astronomically more expensive than the Irish countryside, which is where had lived - sort of - for the past few years with Seamus. But the Ministry had finally caught up with him and had assigned him to London, and now here he was, suddenly nervous that Ginny Weasley - _Potter_ \- would somehow judge him, would think less of him.

"It's not much," he mumbled and fumbled for the lights but Ginny's hands closed around his and she pulled his knuckles to her mouth.

"It's perfect, Dean," she said and moved into the dark studio flat. Dean frowned and closed the door behind them, turning the lock into place, and took stock of his home. A studio room with a pathetic kitchenette in one corner and a bed in the other. He could only imagine the kind of life she had become accustomed to in the past years with Potter for a husband. Shame burned hotly at the center of his gut and he felt sullen anger creep back into his veins. Ginny turned towards him again and closed the space between the two of them. "Let me get the lights," he said softly but she shook her head.

"No, this is perfect," she whispered and ran her hands up the front of his suit jacket, fingers curling around the lapels and pulling him towards her, down to her face. "Kiss me, Dean," she breathed and Dean pulled her even closer to him, hands circling her waist, and he dipped his head to her's, stopping as their foreheads touched. Ginny let out a frustrated sigh.

"Are you sure about this, Gin?"

"Dean…" she let his lapels go and brought her hands up to either side of his face, cupping him and staring directly into his eyes. Moonlight spilled in through the windows and bounced off of her hair, illuminating her and Dean caught his breath in his throat. "If you don't touch me - and I mean really touch me - I'm going to go insane. I think I may explode," she said, smiling again and Dean grinned at her. He tightened his grip on her sides and she sucked in a breath, smile gone as she stared intently at him.

He grabbed at her and spun her around, crashing her back into a strip of brick that lay between two floor length windows. She gasped and stared at him. Dean hoisted her up and she came, legs around his waist and he waited a single moment, staring at her, before closing the distance and kissing her fiercely and with hunger and angrily - for all of the time they had spent apart and for the stupid fucking decisions that she had made that put the two of them in this position.

He broke away from her and stared at her - her eyes were wide and fierce and filled with fire just the way that _his_ Ginny Weasley had always looked at him and he pushed against her, grinding himself against her and she gasped. "Fuck," she whispered. Dean kissed her again, crashing into her and shivered as he felt her hands dig into his scalp as she kissed him back.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry watched Luna, entranced, and wondered if she had always been this enchanting or whether the whiskey was simply making her attractive… or, if five years of an unhappy marriage and a year of celibacy was making her - simply a woman - intoxicating. Because, whatever the reason and explanation, Harry could not pull his eyes away from her. Luna threw her head back and laughed and Harry continued to watch her, not giving a damn about the looks that Rolf was throwing him and he knew that if a look could kill, Harry would be dead on the floor. He wondered how far he could push the limit before Rolf snapped and either threw a punch or a curse.

Luna's hair was several inches shorter and styled - curled - and if Harry looked close enough, he _thought_ he could see make up because never in his life had he known Luna's eyes to be so brilliantly blue. And she exuded confidence - well, a confidence different than the kind that Luna always had. She had never given a damn about what anyone thought but she was light and funny and charming and… and she _knew_ it. Harry wondered what exactly had been happening since their time together to force such an awakening in her and he slid his glance over to Rolf, who was staring at him sullenly. Did this moron have anything to do with it?

"I need to use the men's room and then Luna, do you think we should head out?" Rolf said suddenly, pulling Luna away from the joke that Harry had just told and back to reality. She pouted slightly and Rolf sighed heavily.

"I'm having so much fun! Oh, Rolf, don't be like that. I haven't seen Harry for ages and it's been so good catching up with him. And we're celebrating! Don't forget that," she said and did another shot of whiskey, hiccuping and giggling.

Harry grinned cockily at Rolf. "Yeah, Rolf," he said. "We're celebrating." Harry picked up another shot and brought it to his lips but -

"Shouldn't you be getting home to your _wife_?" Rolf sneered and Harry nearly choked on the liquor. Luna blinked and glanced at Harry.

"Where is Ginny?" She asked.

"Yeah, where _is_ Ginny?" Rolf growled. Harry glared at Rolf and glanced at Luna, gaze softening. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, shrugging. Rolf rolled his eyes and stalked away from the table but Luna continued to study Harry and reached across, pulling his hand between her own.

"Is everything okay, Harry?" She asked softly and Harry frowned, shifting uncomfortably. Up until right now, he had enjoyed the entire evening with Luna. She was light and fun and with her, he forgot all about his shitty marriage and the fact that his life seemed to be going nowhere. He didn't want to talk about Ginny anymore, not tonight and definitely not with Luna.

"It's not but it will be. How about for you? How are you, Luna? You and Rolf…?" He asked, hoping that a tipsy Luna would be sufficiently distracted to let the Ginny subject drop. For her part, Luna shrugged and glanced towards the men's room, inching closer to Harry. He grinned.

"I suppose he's my boyfriend… that sounds so silly. _Boyfriend._ But I guess there is no better word for it. He keeps talking about getting married but I don't know," Luna paused, reaching for her wine glass and taking a sip. "I'm still so young, you know? I'm only 23. I want to have _fun_ but Rolf just wants to settle down. I've only had one boyfriend ever. As stupid as it may sound with everything we've been through, I just feel like I haven't experienced anything yet." Luna turned to Harry, eyes wide. "Do I sound completely ridiculous?"

Harry shook his head earnestly. "No. I completely understand you."


	6. Chapter 6

Ginny stretched her arms high above her head and relished the pops that sounded from her shoulders and neck. She relaxed and watched the lights from passing Muggle cars illuminate the ceiling and she listened to Dean's breathing - not quite deep enough for sleep but so steady that she knew he was pretending. She lightly hit him with her elbow and turned on her side, staring at him, studying him, and praying that this would last. Dean opened his eyes and stared at her, a small smile playing at his lips and he tugged at the sheet that covered her, exposing her breasts to his view and to the cold air. She shivered and giggled.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly and Ginny smiled, savoring the fullness that she felt in her soul.

"You make me feel like me again," she responded and reached out, running a finger down the side of his face. He turned and pressed a kiss to her finger.

"What do you mean?" Ginny shrugged and turned on her back again, laughing again as Dean laid a hand over one of her breasts. She sighed happily.

"I lost myself there for a while. I got too wrapped up in all the bullshit." She turned towards Dean, who was watching her. "You brought me back."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What happened, Gin?"

Ginny took a deep breath and wondered at where to start. After the War? Did she talk about the one measly year of happiness in her marriage or did she start when Harry began having problems? The drinking that often turned mean and violent, or did she begin when Harry started talking about suicide and all the times she came home to find him unconscious, in a puddle of his own vomit and her with no idea how to handle a husband who hated himself and hated their world and just wanted to be dead.

No, Ginny had no idea where to start and so she shrugged and laughed darkly. "It's just a mess," she said softly and turned away from Dean, as the tears began to roll down her face. She hadn't allowed herself to cry for years but now, she was _finally_ with the one person who she had ached for and the weight of what she endured was too much. Dean reached out and pulled her close, encasing her within his arms and against his chest, and he pressed a kiss against cheek, among the path of her tears.

"Did he hurt you?"

Ginny bit her bottom lip and looked at Dean, afraid of admitting the truth because what would that mean for her? The unbreakable Ginny Weasley allowed herself to be tormented by an alcoholic husband. And what would that mean for Harry? Because despite it all, he _was_ getting better, even if their marriage was not salvageable and the sight of him made her break out into an anxious sweat. He needed help and for whatever fucked up reason, Ginny wasn't willing to condemn him publicly before he had his chance.

"I'm going to kill that bastard," Dean said darkly.


	7. Chapter 7

Luna watched Harry, smiling, and acknowledged that she had every intention of pursuing him. He was inching closer and closer towards drunk and she considered the fact that she was planning on seducing an inebriated person - was that wrong? The rational side of her screamed yes but every other part of her rebelled, reminding her that Harry Potter had been the sole center of her universe for her formative years and here he was, staring at her like she was beautiful and she felt empowered.

And his wedding ring was curiously gone, so there was that.

Rolf came back to the table and Luna felt tension knot into her shoulders and her mood dropped. Ever since the word "engaged" escaped his lips, Rolf had become another person. He was serious and he was constantly correcting Luna, attempting to lead her towards the status quo rather than let her fly on her own.

"Come on, Luna. I'm ready to go," he said darkly, like a sullen three year old who wasn't getting his way. Like a jealous _child_ who hated the site of another playing with his toy. Because that's what he treated her as - his, a possession, and the fact that he couldn't secure an acceptance to his constant and unending proposals edged him closer to a tantrum with each passing day.

"Well, I'm not," she said lightly, smiling at Harry (who was still watching her) before turning her look to Rolf, towering over her. His face was set in hard, angry lines and the sight of his temper spurred her on. "I'm having a lovely time with Harry. If you're ready to go, go on then. I'm sure Harry will see me home later."

"Luna, come on. Let's go. I'm not joking around," Rolf growled.

"I believe the lady said that she wasn't ready to go," Harry said, a certain hard edge lacing his words. Rolf shot a nasty glare to Harry.

"Stay out of this, Potter. You should be home with your _wife_ not sidling up to my fiancee," Rolf said, sneering.

"Fiancee?" Harry said at the same time Luna said -

"Rolf, I'm not going anywhere with you if you're going to speak to me like that and treat Harry with such disrespect. I think it's best that you go and we'll talk this over tomorrow," she said.

"Can I expect you at home tonight?"

Luna shook her head. "I'll be going to _my_ home, and like I said - we'll talk later." She turned back to Harry, smiling.

Rolf stared at the two in disbelief before turning on his heel. "Fuck this," he growled under his breath and stormed out of the bar. Harry watched Luna with interest.

"Fiancee?"

Luna smiled brightly and shrugged. "Difference of opinions. But I don't want to talk about him anymore." Luna reached to their table and pulled another shot of whiskey to her lips, loving the burn of the liquid as it made its way to her belly. Liquid courage, she thought, and she turned to face Harry, suddenly serious. "I have a confession to make."

Harry raised his eyebrows in interest.

"Did you know that I was completely and madly in love with you all through out school?"


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione sank onto the edge of their bed and began removing her strappy heels, thankful that the night was over and even more thankful to get out of her shoes. Ron stood in the entrance of their closet, loosening his tie and removing his cuff links, watching her silently. Hermione smiled sadly at him.

"Don't let it bother you," he said softly and turned, hanging his tie on the rack and tossing the links into Hermione's opened jewelry box. Hermione dropped her shoes the ground and lay back, staring up at their ceiling.

"I can't help it," she responded. "Don't you think it's depressing?"

Hermione felt the mattress shift as Ron sat next to her, and pushed against her leg, urging her further up on to the bed as he pulled her left foot into his hands began to softly knead at her heel. She groaned in contentment.

"Of course I think it's depressing. Harry's my best friend and Gin's my sister. When they got married, it was like Christmas Day and I was a little kid again. My best friend was going to be my brother-in-law and our family was going to be complete again. Well, as complete as it can be." Hermione ran her hand up the length of Ron's back, frowning at the drop in his voice as he nearly mentioned Fred. "But they're both adults. They're clearly not happy. Harry has some serious issues and I don't really blame Gin for not wanting to go through that."

"When you get married, you kind of agree to go through it with your partner," Hermione said softly.

"When you get married, you should be an adult," Ron said.

"They _were_ adults-"

"Hermione, Harry was eighteen and Gin was barely seventeen. We've been through a lot but that didn't mean that they were old enough or mature enough to get married. And sometimes marriages just don't work out-"

Hermione sat up, pulling her foot from Ron's grasp and he turned to her. She frowned at him. "It's really disconcerting to hear my husband say that marriages don't last," she said softly.

"Babe, I said some marriages. Not ours." He reached for her and pulled him next to her, hand sliding around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her temple. With his free hand, he picked up her left hand and smiled down at her wedding band.

"Marriage is supposed to be forever, no matter who you are," she protested and Ron pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers reverently. "And besides-"

"Hermione, I don't want to talk about Harry or Ginny," he said softly and looked at her. "You looked beautiful tonight. Did I tell you that?"

Despite herself, Hermione smiled and nodded. "Four times." Ron grinned at her.

"Good. Happy anniversary, Hermione," he said, kissing her softly.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry followed Luna into the entrance of her house - of her father's house - and Harry was plunged into a nostalgia that wavered between nightmare and anxiety attack inducing. Months had passed since he had one of his "episodes" - as Ginny called them - but the familiar gut clenching nausea returned like an old friend. Luna turned to him, smiling and completely unaware of the panic coursing through his veins like a drug.

"Would you like another drink, Harry?" Her question was innocent enough and Harry forced himself further into her living room, eyes glued to the staircase that had once exploded on top of him and his head began to nod erratically, like a malfunction automaton, and he desperately wished that there was something stronger than alcohol to fight against the demons that were creeping into his psyche.

Luna left the room, entering into the kitchen, and Harry heard bottles clanking against crystal glasses.

"Just bring the bottle," he called out, voice cracking, and he began to pull in breaths rhythmically, willing his heart to calm. He heard Luna chuckle from within and only a moment later, reemerge with a decanter filled with liquor. She traipsed towards him and held the bottle, which Harry snatched from her hands and pressed against his lips, drinking heavily and deeply.

Luna cocked an eyebrow. "Slow down," she said and peered at Harry. "You're pale. Are you feeling alright?"

Harry lowered the whiskey and offered it to her. He nodded, wiping at his lips, as she took a swig from the bottle before setting it down on a table. Harry began to feel marginally better and focused on the burning sensation in his belly and the way that Luna's dressed dipped deeply down her front…

"You're staring at me," she said softly and Harry blinked, eyes drawn towards her face and he felt a blush creep across his cheeks. But she didn't look angry - no, she was smirking - as though she knew exactly how she looked at that moment and exactly how she was affecting him.

"I…" Harry began, feigning apology and explanation but failed and Luna grinned, stepping closer to him, hands slinking around his hips. "S-so, you said you were in love with me?"

Luna giggled and nodded her head enthusiastically, breathing deeply and savoring the scent of Harry's cologne - something musky and deep mixed with the familiar scent of whiskey. He was intoxicating and Luna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, staring up at him, wondering how this night was going to go. Harry stared down at her, arms lank at his side and he prayed that she couldn't see how nervous he was. The alcohol was beginning to numb the anxiety and he hoped that the next step would be to embolden him. Christ, it had been a year since he and Ginny had slept together and longer still since he felt remotely attracted to a woman the way that he felt with Luna, here in front of him. He could feel his pulse beginning to pick up again as she stepped closer to him, in a quasi-embrace and he groaned in the base of his throat as she pushed her body against his.


	10. Chapter 10

Luna grinned as she felt Harry's reaction to her and silently applauded herself, proud of how confident she had become and filled with giddy excitement at the thought of _finally_ experiencing something forbidden and exciting and perhaps wrong.

"Luna," he whispered, voice husky and low, and she raised her eyebrows at him, waiting. "I'm still married."

Luna nodded and shrugged. "And your ring magically disappeared at the bar. I'm guessing something is going on there and to be fair, I still have a… a Rolf."

"It isn't working between us - with me and Ginny," he stammered and Luna shook her head.

"I don't want to know. I don't care. For the first time in my life, I want to do something dangerous. I've always been good and I've always made the right decisions," she said, and stepped back from Harry. She ran her hands down the sides of her silky dress, midnight blue to match the depths of the color of her eyes and she watched him, serious. "I want to take a risk. Harry, we survived something horrifying and now - I want to have fun." She watched him and smiled softly, his eyes were travelling up and down the length of her body and once again, she felt incredibly beautiful. "Do you want me, Harry? If you say no, you can leave and I will never mention this night again."

Harry watched her, eyes drawn to her face, and Luna studied him as an internal war broke out across his expression. She knew he was battling between what he wanted - her, or perhaps just some night of distraction from whatever - and what was right. But she desperately hoped that he wanted _her_ specifically but even if this ended up being a single night together, she was going to enjoy it.

"I'm fucked up, Luna," he whispered, voice hoarse and she shrugged.

"Aren't we all fucked up?" She asked and reached around her back, finding the zipper that held her dress on and pulled on it, slowly, feeling the material loosen and she shrugged out from under the straps and let it fall, pooling around her heels. Harry paled. Luna shook out her curls and stepped towards him, delicately stepping out of the material of her dress until she reached him. He stared at her face for a moment before his gaze dropped, taking in her lacy bra and panties, the exact shade of her dress but far more sheer.

"I don't know if I can do anything right by you," he whispered again and lifted a hand, running the backs of his fingers down her shoulder, lightly caressing the side of her breast and she shivered, skin breaking out into bumps at his touch.

"I'm not asking you to do anything heroic," she responded and his eyes snapped towards her face, jaw tightening.

"You're beautiful," he said and she smiled at him.


	11. Chapter 11

Ginny glanced up as Harry entered their bedroom, still clothed in the dress robes from the night before, and she wondered where he had been all night. A phantom tendril of jealousy and suspicion flared in her center before she reminded herself that she had spent the night literally wrapped around another man who was most certainly _not_ her husband and had only snuck back into her home a mere three hours earlier. She watched Harry with interest as she patted her hair dry with a towel - he looked hungover, sure. But the gauntness and exhaustion that usually accompanied the morning after a night of heavy drinking was absent. Harry had color in his cheeks and he looked… Ginny frowned - happy?

Harry glanced up, finally noticing her, and jumped. "Oh. I didn't expect you to be-"

"It's 10:45 on a Sunday morning. Where else would I be?" Ginny snapped before turning back to her reflection in the vanity at which she sat. From her mirror, Ginny watched Harry begin to shed last night's clothing. "And where were you all night?" Harry shot a glance at her reflection before rolling his eyes and turning to dig through his bureau for clean clothing.

"That's sweet, Gin. The role of the concerned and jealous wife. I like it - brings back fond memories for me," he muttered, sarcastically. "And how was Dean last night? Did you happen to say hello to him for me?" Harry pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on to their bed. Ginny glared at him.

"Oh, grow up-"

"No, I'm serious. You two looked very cozy together before you snuck off to do God knows what in a broom closet. That's very high class by the way, Gin. Even for you."

"Go to hell," she snarled and Harry laughed darkly.

"After you, baby," he said and cross their room into the adjoining bathroom, leaving the door ajar. Ginny heard the sink turn on. Ginny took a moment to calm herself - rhythmically breathing through her nose - before she said -

"We start therapy tomorrow," she called over the noise of the running water. Harry quickly appeared at the door, staring at her in shock, toothbrush in hand and foam in his mouth.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said dryly.

"We agreed-"

"Fuck, Ginny. It's over between us. Why the hell are we dragging this out? I don't want to go to therapy. I don't want to talk about how I've hurt you and how I'm a shitty husband and how I fucked up five million times. I'm tired of the bullshit," he said, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

"You need therapy," she muttered and began to pull her hairbrush through her damp hair.

"Oh, fuck off, okay? You need to stop fucking other guys behind my back. How about that?" Harry snarled and returned to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Rolf watched Luna coldly, analyzing every detail about her - from the small smile playing at her lips to the very sway of her hips as she moved through her kitchen - and attempted to pin down exactly what was different about her. Luna had been under a constant metamorphosis for months now but this was completely different. She acted as though she had a secret, taunting him with it, and Rolf began to feel himself come unhinged.

"What did you and Potter do after I left the bar last night?" His question came out like an accusation and Luna rolled her eyes. Rolf clenched his hand into a tight fist, knuckles whitening.

"Honestly, Rolf. Don't act like a child," she said and dropped a handful of violets into a mason jar, artfully arranging them, back to Rolf. Rolf glared at her and felt a vein begin to pulse at his temple.

"You humiliated me," he responded darkly.

"Humiliated you? That's a strong accusation. And when did I commit such a crime?"

"You chose to stay with him rather than coming home with me, as is expected of my future wife," Rolf snarled. At that Luna turned to him, lips clenched as she tried to bite back a laugh and eyes sparkling.

"Oh, Rolf. How antiquated. The next thing I know you'll be offering my father three chickens and a pig for my hand in marriage and I'll be sold to you," she said, teasing. Rolf continued to glare.

"There is _nothing_ wrong with tradition-"

"Perhaps that is true but Rolf, I have not accepted a proposal from you. As far as I'm concerned, I'm free. Yes, we may be dating-"

"Dating?" Rolf barked out a laugh. "We have been a couple for three years!" Rolf stood and stalked over to Luna, towering over her and yet, she continued to ignore him. "Don't disrespect me by demeaning what this is to mere dating."

"See? This is why I can't take you seriously. Talk of respect and honor and tradition. It is so boring that I could cry," she said dismissively and Rolf felt his temper snap like a string pulled too taut. He grabbed Luna's upper arm and whipped her around. Luna blinked up at him in surprise, her lips forming a perfect little o as he put his face dangerously close to her's.

"Do not mock me," he growled and tightened his grip on her arm, fingers digging into the soft flesh until he hit her bone underneath, and then he squeezed harder. Rolf watched her, tears pooling in her eyes from the pain of his grasp, but to her credit, Luna simply continued to stare at him.


	13. Chapter 13

"Have you heard of post-traumatic stress disorder, Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced up from the decorative tiles that adorned the floor and peered curiously at the old wizard sitting behind the desk across from him. The man simply watched him, quill in hand, poised above a scroll of parchment and Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not trusting where this was going.

"I thought this was about my marriage," Harry responded. The man smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Ultimately your marriage is what brought you here," he said. "And yet we must begin with _you_ to see where we can go when it comes to Mrs. Potter-"

"Is that why we're beginning this separately?"

The counselor nodded and Harry glanced at the walls behind the man. Frames lined the walls and Harry's eyebrows shot up as he noticed various diplomas from Muggle universities. The man turned, noticing Harry's surprised, and nodded at the diplomas.

"Ah, yes. That is always a source of surprise for my clients and unfortunately, what my colleagues hone in on to mock me. Our world is sorely lacking in psychiatric and psychological studies and healthcare, and though some may be surprised to hear it, there are certain areas in which we can learn from Muggles." The man shrugged again, looking back to Harry. "I am not ashamed of my education. We are in the after shocks of a cataclysmic war that has shaken the very foundation of our world. Generations of our children will have to contend with what the heinous crimes that the Dark Lord and his followers committed. And those who were in the very epicenter of the War… well, it would be no surprise and there would be no blame to level if those individuals were altered after those experiences."

Harry felt himself tense up but he continued to watch the man. He crossed his arms across his chest defensively. "I've heard of it," he mumbled.

"It?"

"The stress disorder," Harry clarified. "When I lived with my aunt and uncle. I don't really know what it means or what it has to do with me but yeah. I've heard of it."

"Individuals may experience a myriad of events that can trigger the disorder and it is not uncommon amongst war veterans. PTSD can manifest differently for each patient. Some feel uncontrollably angry or depressed. Others are haunted by nightmares that push them back into what they experienced. Some feel emotionally numb, and some repress the event so they have no recollection of it."

Harry felt his palms begin to sweat and he frowned.

"Does that seem familiar at all to your experiences, Mr. Potter?"

"A bit," he whispered. The counselor nodded.

"Will you tell me what's been going on? And I don't specifically mean between you and your wife. I want to know where you're at. What you've been going through," the counselor said.

Harry frowned. "I was fine at first," he said and the counselor nodded, encouraging him to go on. "We had a lot of fun that first year…"

"Fun?"

Harry nodded and dropped his gaze to the floor. "We were celebrating and drinking and partying… and just having fun. I guess kind of forgetting what had happened and we were focusing on the present and not remembering constantly... My mother-in-law fell into a really deep depression after the War because of Fred and it was just… I don't know. Ginny hated being around her and we just kept drinking a lot and having fun. And I guess that's kind of where it all started."


	14. Chapter 14

Seamus ordered another round - a Guinness and a shot of whiskey each - and turned to his friend, annoyed by Dean's sullen silence. Seamus finally managed a few days of vacation to come and see his best friend - in London of all places - and instead of getting annihilated as he had hoped, Dean was pouting like a kid whose favorite broomstick was taken away. Dean was drinking, sure, but the only time he paid attention to his surroundings was when Seamus slid another shot in front of him or when the door opened to the bar. Dean's head would snap up and around so fast that Seamus was surprised he hadn't succumbed to whiplash yet.

He wasn't stupid. Seamus knew exactly what - no, who - was occupying Dean's mind but he couldn't figure exactly why Dean was acting like an emotional little bitch. Dean's darkest moment wasn't when he was on the run during the War. Rather, it was the weeks and months following Ginny's quick engagement and even hastier wedding to Potter. Seamus followed Dean down the dark path and became his ever faithful drinking partner, shielding his friend from any mention of her. But that was years ago and now he was just pissed off.

"I give up, mate," Seamus said and Dean glanced up at him, confused. "We're two good looking bastards in the middle of London on a Saturday night. We could be having a grand time at a Muggle bar and yet, here we are. You look like someone killed your dog and this whole emotional thing is killing my buzz. Either your straighten yourself out or I'm out of here."

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes harshly. "It's her again," he mumbled and Seamus laughed darkly.

"Oh, really? And what - do you think I'm fucking stupid? Of course it's her. Are you acting like a bitch because her father is your boss or did you actually see her?" Seamus drained the last of his beer and motioned to the bartender for another. Dean chuckled under his breath and Seamus looked at him.

"It's a little more complicated than that, mate," he muttered and drank the shot of whiskey. Seamus rolled his eyes.

"Just tell me, damn it. I'm sick of playing twenty fucking questions."

"We - uh… We kind of hooked up. We are hooking up."

Seamus nearly choked on his beer. "Wait. What?"

Dean shrugged and repeated himself.

"I'm not fucking deaf. I heard you. Isn't she married?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No fucking buts," Seamus said in disbelief. "And hooking up how? Your version of hooking up or are you actually fucking her?"

Dean scowled. "Come on, man. Don't talk about her like that."

Seamus's jaw dropped. "Holy fucking shit. You _are_ fucking her. She's married!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "And since when do you, of all people, have a moral hang up over whether a woman is married or not?"

"Only when that woman is married to the god damned Chosen One. If he doesn't kill you when he finds out, our entire world will crucify you. And he will find out. It's not like she's going to leave him-"

"The fuck, Seamus? Why the hell would you say something like that? She's going to leave him. They're miserable - they have been for years."

"And what? She'll finally choose you?" Dean glared at him and Seamus shrugged his shoulders. "Don't look at me that way. You begged her not to marry him six years ago and that wasn't enough to change her mind. Yeah, you're right - they probably are fucking miserable. Anyone who gets married when they're a teenager ends up fucking miserable. But I don't think for a second she'll leave him. He's Harry fucking Potter."


	15. Chapter 15

Ginny watched Dean from across the pub, watched him get progressively drunker, and slid her fingers under her thighs, attempting to stop them from nervously drumming against the tabletop. He hadn't noticed her - she slipped in with Harry and her parents while he and Seamus were talking - arguing perhaps. Seamus looked pissed and Dean's shoulders were tense. But they continued to throw back shots, chasing them with beers, one after the other and Ginny prayed that he wouldn't notice her. Nothing good would come of it.

"Ginny, dear. Did you hear me?" Ginny's head snapped towards her mother, pulled back into her party's conversation.

"No, Mum. Sorry, What'd you say?"

"I wanted to know how couple's counseling is coming along." Molly patted Harry's cheek and smiled at Ginny. "Your father and I are just so proud of you two for making effort at making things work. Marriage isn't easy and sometimes you need to put in extra work… and, well, I'm just so proud of you two."

Ginny glanced at her husband, watching his jaw clench as he stared at the table, mute. Ginny cleared her throat.

"Well, they started us separately-" Ginny began, but Molly cut her off, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Separately? Why would they do that?"

Ginny shrugged. "They want us to work on ourselves as individuals before tackling our problems as a couple."

"How long is that going to last? When do you two get to go together?"

"Not sure, Molly," Harry said shortly and stood. "Does anyone want anything? Another drink? Arthur?"

Ginny's father shook his head, looking uncomfortable at his wife's prying questions. Harry nodded curtly and turned, headed towards the bar. Ginny watched him approach as though time were in slow motion. Seamus noticed him first and turned to Dean, face pale and she realized - he _knew_. Ginny felt her cheeks flush as anger rose up in her belly.

Harry turned to Seamus and nodded, and then his eyes landed on Dean and Ginny sucked a breath in through her nose, holding the air in her lungs until she felt pain from the pressure and the lack of oxygen. Harry's fist clenched and he stared at Dean, who slowly turned. Ginny stood, exhaling in a rush, and both of her parents stared at her, startled.

"Ginny - are you okay?" Arthur said, standing and turning to see what she was transfixed by. Ginny watched Harry's mouth begin to move and Dean pushed himself off of his stool, away from the bar, and into Harry's face. "What are they doing?" Arthur exclaimed before moving to separate the two. Molly stared at her daughter.

"Ginerva, what on earth is going on?"

Dean poked a finger into Harry's chest and Harry shoved at him - Dean went sprawling across the floor and Seamus jumped to his feet, throwing a punch at Harry. His fist connected with Harry's cheek and his glasses went flying. Molly yelped and Dean pulled himself to his feet and lunged at Harry, sending the two of them to the floor, crashing into a table. Ginny covered her eyes with her hands and heard the yells of the other pub patrons and the sounds of fists connecting to flesh. She wished she could sink into the floor and disappear.

Arthur pulled Harry off of and away from Dean by the cuff of his shirt and threw him back towards their table. For his part, Seamus held Dean down by his shoulders, counseling his friend to calm down. Molly stared at Harry in horror and Ginny stood there, stupidly, hands covering her face.

"Harry, what - what are you thinking? Why did you do that? What happened?" Molly shouted, voice becoming progressively more shrill.

Harry wiped a hand under his nose and stared at the blood trail left there. He glanced at his wife briefly before turning to leave the pub, calling out over his shoulder - "Why don't you ask Ginny. Ask her what could've inspired me to pick a fight with Dean." And he slammed out of the pub and Ginny heard a pop of Apparition. Molly turned to her daughter and yanked Ginny's hands away from her face, forcing her to face her. Dean was standing, staring at Ginny, blood trickling from a busted lip.

"Ginerva. What did he mean by that?" Molly demanded, though a slow realization was beginning to creep over her features. Ginny merely stood, staring at Dean, and felt tears beginning to well in her eyes.


End file.
